In the Deep End
by danielrz
Summary: Our new agent finds himself looking over certain things more than he probably should. OC and Natasha/Clint. Yes by OC I mean me, am a boy, rated for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**ok I know I am highly likely the only male to be writing stuff on this but hey, someone has to. enjoy x**

_When_ I watched the superheroes on television, don't get me wrong, it looked like fun. But surely just having a power takes away from your raw ability. Thats why I admired the two operatives put on the team, and highly respected them.

Thats why I did my best to attract the lone eye of the extra-governmentary department they worked for. Being a lowly town newspaper intern, nobody could have thought that I, Daniel of substandard grades but a knack for noticing what was usually too obvious, would find the most simple but incredible way to get hired by the big boss man.

Something secret agents do a lot is lie, I knew right off the bat I would have to. I also knew that they would be monitoring all news, not just the big stuff like on FOX. So I faked evidence and 'revealed' the real identities of the red haired woman and the archer. These real identities were fake, of course, and soon enough the appropriate authorities were contacting me - in a somewhat violent means, might I add - about this information. My simple explanation was that I wanted a new job and deduced that their recruitment would be strictly by invitation only. They liked my ambition and immediatly drafted me into PR.

* * *

It wasn't long before a certain flame required my assistance. Natasha Romanoff was probably the first person I bumped into here, uncomfortable in a suit with slacks too tight before I even broached the fact that I was _wearing a suit. _Ah,well. Might as well get the embarrassments over with straight away. My too-small suit made her laugh as when I walked into her I was shifting the material over my thigh. "New job?" she asked, "you get used to it. Apparently." It didnt help that my first assignment was to rid the rags of rumors she'd been doing oxygen, constant hyped up refills ready to go, and that was the only reason she could challenge space robots, practically singlehandedly. They were just throwing me in the deep end and waiting to see if I would sink or swim.


	2. Chapter 2

**ok, I'm sorry. Don't read if you don't like reading violent sexy stuff, and elements of sexual abuse. Also bad words. Your move, kids. This may or may not be along the lines of a fantasy or several of mine x**

When I was told that I was to help the Black Widow get over all these lovely rumors circulating that she did drugs I hid under my desk. Waites on the other end of the line could immediately tell what I'd done and just laughed at me, saying that it wouldn't help. I peered over the edge when I heard a knock on my door and one of the small techies just walked over and placed a folder in front of my nose. Putting the phone back in its cradle after apologizing I examined the release about the Research department's buying up of far too much potassium recently. I didn't fraternize with that lot often but, from what I had heard just walking around the helicarrier, the extensive reasons listed here were lies. Ah, well. At least I don't have to explain why there are so many poptarts being bought by the HR lot. Their problem; sucks to be Agent Richie right now.

It was here, flicking through the report and chuckling, when Natasha walked in on me. "Are you sure you're taking your job seriously, agent?" she asked without my noticing she'd creeped up behind me, and I nearly shot into the ceiling. Surprisingly enough, Barton dropped from the ceiling that very minute.

"Yeh, you're meant to be the quick talker" he smirked, grabbing me by the shoulders when my body threatened to collapse.

I was dazed and when Natasha came and slapped me round the face, murmuring "Typical" in an annoyed tone, all I could do was tell her she was pretty. Seven times. This simply caused Clint to start laughing and release my shoulders in the process, letting me fall to the ground and tripping Natasha with me. The talented agent was too quick, though, and jumped up. She did land on my groin, though, and I blacked out. Only feeling Clint left me around his shoulders like he does with his bow then deposit me on something that felt like it should be comfy but wasn't a few minutes later. I tried to come to but my will wasn't enough and I couldn't do anything.

"Well done" I heard Clint say, clearly to Natasha, who just huffed.

"He needs a better stomach"

"He was just trying to do his job. He's new, how was he supposed to know I was going to do that?"

"Intuition. He should have intuition, or he shouldn't work here."

"He's not a spy, Natasha, he's a rep. There's a _huge_ difference" she huffed again at this and sounded like she was blowing her hair out of her face, before I heard her stomp away. "Don't worry, mate," Clint said, stroking my leg, "she didn't mean it. Dr Carter should be along soon. She's lovely, really, Nat, you'd like her."

Then, when he was sure there was absolutely no possibility whatsoever that she'd ever manage to hear this conversation, he added "Great fuck, too." tapping me on the thigh before leaving, too. I couldn't feel my balls but I was pretty sure they would have tightened at that.

* * *

Sucks to be me, right now, because I'm not a high enough risk patient to be given a private room and my privates are all sort of bandaged and it's humiliating. My right leg has to be raised constantly and there's a sling wrapped like a loin cloth all round my hips and the top of my left leg, not to mention what looks to everyone like a permanent hardon cause there's a separate fucking plaster cast round my penis. My little me just so happens to actually be rather little... it's a genetic thing. Everyone who comes through the med center, though, can see my five inch slim little beauty strapped up and pointing at my face. It was worse when I regained consciousness as I then noticed that they'd put a dog cone on it, too, to keep me from playing, as they "know what men are like". I think it's entirely possible to see my hairy asshole from the way they have my leg up, too.

This didn't help when Clint pushed Natasha in to apologize. As in, she burst out laughing. Clint, still behind her, whacked her on the ass and told her to behave before he left himself. Natasha just grinned slyly before pulling the curtain around and sitting under my raised leg, no visiting chairs left anymore as it became clear _the guy with the broken cock is not getting any visitors_. The cast, though, did add some girth to my manhood so it wasn't entirely bad. Natasha patted him on the head, smiling at me. I was still waiting for the apology. After a minute she gained a puzzled expression when it became clear I was not going to react to this taunting.

"You're evil, you know." I said, and she glared at me. But what more could she do, eh? "So bad that you broke your own plan with my junk. Can't feel any of it. Doctors don't know if I ever will, or if I'm just gonna have some limp little stuff down there, without the ability to reproduce or pee without assistance. And everyone gets a look. But you can't get him to do what you like, at least." she frowned.

"I didn't mean to do anything, it's Clint's fault entirely. He made you startled then dropped you."

"You did jump on my stuff, though"

"You're not very perky, are you?"

"No. And I don't know if I'll ever be" I added, nodding at the plastic cone. She giggled again; maybe I was softening the weapon up.

After a minute of her stroking the mummified sagging skin on the bed called my bollocks-that-used-to-be and scrutinizing my face for any discernible reaction she pounced on me. "I'm gonna do you a favor." she spoke harshly right into my ear "We're gonna get that boy working 'cos I accept some responsibility on this. But you're not to tell Clint."

"Wait... what... why?" I mumbled, at a loss for words and without any clue what she was doing.

Without preamble she peeled her pants off and shimmied the cone from my dick. "'cos if he found out, he'd kill you. Rather protective of me. Comes in handy, but less often than not."

"Oh, okay" I managed to sarcastically get out, rolling my eyes as if it helped. What the red head did next utterly shocked me. She used my plastered manhood to remove her panties then turned around and pushed her ass down on it, hard. I still couldn't feel anything, but she grunted a little. I was aware that we had very little privacy, unless she'd managed to poop a solid wall behind that curtain when I wasn't looking. Given some of the kinds of people I'd been told I'd meet through SHIELD, it was well within the realms of possibility. That thought was a massive turnoff, though, and if anything my erection went down. Being an amazing spy and all, Natasha noticed.

She pulled off and turned around to me "Is something wrong?"

"Er, no...?" I answered slowly, absolutely no idea what the right answer was. She was clearly expecting me to elaborate, so I said the first (seemingly) appropriate thing that came to mind "Anal is great!" It was probably said with more vigor than strictly necessary, but I still had no idea why she groaned, pants seemingly miraculously already back on, and walked right out. I think I got some sort of apology from her.

* * *

I was repositioning myself on the pillows after finishing my vomit-inducing cum-lookalike 'chicken soup'. When Natasha dragged Clint in, dragged the curtain shut after they'd pushed through the corner while still holding Clint by the collar. She then turned to him, pressing her lips to his, and starting jumping a bit as she snogged him. He kissed her back, immediately sucking her tongue as space grew between their faces. Natasha started to punch him hard on his rock hard abs and Clint moved his hand to her hair before literally headbutting his own face with hers and biting roughly on her lips. Soon enough, Natasha's hands punched lower until she reached one fist around him to knuckle sandwich Clint's own dangly bits, one fist making impact on each side. Clint didn't make a noise but responded in turn by whacking her really really hard across the face. It was enough for her face to slam into the metal side of the bed, but she just pulled down Clint's pants and shorts from her new vantage on the floor, legs spread, and grabbed his length hard, pulling him down by it. I winced hard, that was all too familiar. I noticed then that Natasha's face was bleeding and her nails pressed into Clint's cock was now drawing blood.

"Stop!" I shouted as loud as I dared.

Natasha turned to me, that conspiratorial smile adorning her pretty face again, "did we get you turned on?" she licked her lips, and I knew her plan meant well and all.

"No," I shook my head sadly, "It just dredged up bad memories." I felt myself begin to cry, so I shook the tears back into my head, and looked back at the astonished and concerned pair, "And you guys are bleeding."

"My friend down there's rather robust" Clint nodded to where Natasha still had hold of him. I gave a short glare before turning to Natasha and making an obvious gesture at her head

"Meh, needed my brain resetting" she stated simply. If only everything were like that. They still were both staring worriedly at me, clearly unconcerned of themselves. Well, they're the 'experts'. I decided to confide in them.

"My stepdad always made fun of me as a teenager, especially when he was drunk, pulling really really hard on _it_ and, and, he'd drag me to the ground head first that way... that's how I got all these burn scars on my forehead, he'd have grabbed both my wrists in his massive ape hands... he'd kick my balls from there, kneeling next to me like a wrestler, holding my penis and pulling hard enough that I haven't been able to pee without pain since I was fourteen, he'd say 'Maybe you can be a decent man if we pull it long enough, eh, son. might get a decent size from you yet, eh?'. Then he'd climb over me and straddle me, stark naked and all," Natasha giggled at that and both Clint and I gave her a look

"Stark, naked" she explained.

"Not the time, but funny." Clint told her, then nodded at me

"Well, he'd ram me up the ass. He was, like, big and I'd bleed and I called out for my mom because I didn't know where she was and all my brothers had moved out by the time she remarried. He'd say something like 'your mom? you're thinking of your mom? you wanna fuck your mom? you dirty little son of a bitch! you're a skank! you know, though, this is what I do to her every night. maybe you could learn to pleasure a woman like me. might have to grow some first.' One time he managed to rupture my right ball and dislocate my dick, I had to go to hospital. He took me and said I'd gone a little hard on my boyfriend. Well, I was fifteen and the doctors called social security and everything cause they noticed he was drunk or some shit. The woman who came explained to me, when he was there in the hospital, that being gay is totally okay and everything but like with different sex couples you gotta be sixteen and I wouldn't want to get hurt again, would I?" I chuckled a little at myself, smiling through the memory of how I got out, Clint and Natasha smiled with me, before I continued "I tried to tell her that it wasn't true but he just kept yelling that oh, it was a little late, and he'd walked in on us and I was a bastard and a faggot and other shit. He used my best mate's name and all. Well, after a bit he stormed out, ripping the curtain down and saying he'd be at the pub for when they let me out, 'you little fag'. The woman asked me if he was my father I explained he was my stepdad and then she said 'don't worry, I believe you're not gay. But, and I know this is very personal and you don't have to answer, but is he um, abusing you, in any way?' As soon as the words left her mouth, I yelled out 'In all ways!' and starting sobbing into my chest, holding myself and everything. So they told my mom and took me into care and I haven't seen 'em since. I know my dad died when I was five, too. As long as my mom's still married to that monster they're not allowed near me. Sucks, cos I've not seen my brothers in ages, either."

I now noticed Clint had got up, Natasha frozen shocked on the floor, looking like I'd just reminded her of something unpleasant, too. Clint just patted my arm, tried to pull the gown lower down over me. It just protruded up no matter what, then kissed my forehead and patted my other arm in a friendly manner. "It wasn't your fault, mate. It was your stepfather's. It's never happened to me, not without submission, but I feel sorry for you. It can happen to the best of us... Nat?" she snapped her head up then slowly got up, as if in a trance, Clint pulled her into his side to support her.

She looked down at me very sincerely "It's horrible. The nightmares stopped for me years ago, but I'll always know it still happened. I like to keep busy. Nothing ever happened to me like that, but there's a very good reason I have arachnophobia, rational." she smiled, then, almost coming back to life, and made her comment light, "And it's not just because I'm a girl." We three all managed a weak smile, but whatever horrors had been inflicted on Natasha I could only think about and I was sure it'd give me nightmares for weeks just imagining what this unknown entity could have done to her. I was pretty sure I had a pretty good idea, and just hoped that my mind was overdoing the possibilities and my thoughts were worse than what really happened, I had a sickly feeling that they couldn't be, though. Natasha then just kissed me on the forehead like Clint and patted my leg that was on the bed before hugging herself and walking slowly away, both mine and Clint's eyes following her as she left the curtain gaping.

"I should probably..." Clint trailed off, but returned to my side after shutting us off from the rest of the ward again. "huh." there was a short silence before he just turned to me with a smile akin to that of Natasha's conspiratorial one but more kind. More kind enough to make it suspicious. He pulled his pants back down and knelt around my sides "This probably isn't the time, but I want to see if I can get your little boy working again." he grinned, back to himself, which made me comfortable enough to return to my usual spirits, no matter how weird this situation was. He turned himself around like Natasha had then turned his head to say over his shoulder with a charming smile, "Just don't tell Nat", as he was settling my cock in his ass, a surprisingly tight fit.

Normally I'd be able to stop myself but I just couldn't this time, "That's what she said" I responded almost immediately. He began to chuckle at what he thought was a joke before he noticed I wasn't laughing and spun himself around, still comfortably seated on my dick, causing him to lean into me.

"She didn't..." he began but was cut off as Dr Carter drew back the curtain, coming in backwards and spinning round but reading her charts. She hadn't noticed Clint was there, let alone how intimate we were, but everyone else had. There was a pregnant pause before they burst out in raucous laughter and wolf whistles just as the doctor looked up, dropping her chart and my meds.

* * *

"Barton!" It was Director Fury, he'd just entered the medical wing when the cheering began. Clint slowly, and without a hint of shame, pulled up off me whispering "sorry mate", then turned to face everyone before realizing that little important detail and, still completely unembarrassed, just pulled his tight Y's up to barely conceal himself and routed around the side of my bed the doctor wasn't on for his pants. Dr Carter had found them first, that's where she'd dropped my meds, and held them up for him, still shocked but a little less so as she got to finally make the man embarrassed. He turned bright red and took them from her, the crotch dragging over my face as he pulled one of the pant legs. Everyone burst out laughing again, only to be silenced by half a look from Fury.

When Clint was redressed Fury began again. "Hawkeye, it's lovely you're experimenting with a potential paralysis patient in our med wing, but last we heard you were in a stable relationship with a certain highly talented assassin. I, for one, don't want to be the one covering your murder case." he thought a second then added, nodding at me, "That's Agent Rodriguez' job, anyway, and I'm not sure if he'd manage it." I stuck my left hand up as acknowledgement. Clint glared back at me then mumbled "I was trying to do him a favor. Natasha tried too." just as Natasha, now seemingly recovered, walked in. She had much better hearing than him and glared at me, but I quickly shot her a look of apology in the split second before she murdered me. She smiled and gave me a look that said "you're learning", though didn't seem to have a stance on the status of life.

Fury turned to her "Perfect timing as always, Agent Romanoff." he smiled at her, she'd have found a way to make herself his favorite within a day here I had no doubts. Then he turned to everyone, "well, I'm not paying you to gawk at Rodriguez, back to work or recovery everyone!" He turned and left. Clint turned to me and apologized before running off, past Natasha who was as yet still to move, when he left she walked right up to me, never breaking eye contact.

"You're going to be good. And I'm sorry."

I smiled, "You still owe me an apology from before, though."

"That was it" she smiled seductively at me, then broke out giggling and ruffled my hair like I was six. "You're funny, too. That was good." she turned and left, still laughing, clearly humored. Well, at least she wasn't serious. I wouldn't want to break up Clint and her, or face the consequences, no matter how good the fucks might be.

**I'm sorry if you read that and bits ended up disgusting. Think about puppies, eh? x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay that was all fiction, none of that stuff has ever happened to me (and my dick isn't exactly small ;D) Um, this is a weird one, k. So sorry it took longer to get up but I wrote it then a load of it just went missing, so I've had to rewrite that. x**

Natasha was looking for me. Clint told me as much before she started the prowl and I had done my best to keep as far away from her as possible. I had no idea why was looking for me, and apparently neither did Clint, as he informed one day in the canteen only seconds before Natasha burst through the door and targeted me with her eyes, walking directly over. Directly meaning in a perfect straight line not caring for people, tables, or bins. So now everybody was watching. She didn't look happy. I'd only got out of the med wing the day before and Clint had told me she was on my case practically as soon as I had.

Clint just looked up to her when she stopped at the table and, in a high voice I'd never thought he could manage, said "Hi, love". Natasha calmed again and said "Hi, sweetie" in her level, normal, voice before leaning down to kiss him. She then looked back up at me and returned to terminator mode.

"Are you a robot?" was the first thing I managed to get out. My brain was clearly not my friend.

"Are you, or are you not, gay?" she just asked in front of everyone. Wow. If she wanted the entirety of SHIELD to believe I was gay in under 2 seconds she knew how to do it. If I answered yes, it was confirmed, if I answered no they'd all say I was lying and ashamed, even with the certain Clint event. My skill set always seemed to be the useless one, but it came in handy with allowing myself to find the easy third option.

"Naw, I'm bi." was my answer. Well, you couldn't half tell she wasn't expecting that. And that, my best guess was, was exactly what all the other agents in the canteen were messaging in the split second. Clint smiled at that, but then realized that the fallout was on his flawless girlfriend's expression. She wasn't supposed to show stuff like that, or have left something out of consideration, let alone both. So he decided to remove attention the only way he could, and the way only he could get away with. This was by climbing onto my lap, knocking my cola to the floor, and kissing me. Nobody else was able to see it but the look he gave me told me why he was doing this.

The crowd made sounds like the attending did back in medical a few weeks ago and Clint leaned in again. Natasha seemed to realize what he was doing to and leaned in to whisper to him, but I could also hear, that he was going to get rewarded later. So he kept going, and she told us to "keep playing boys". As we kept going and Natasha played her part perfectly in storming out of the room, supposedly enraged that we'd only gotten _more_ enthusiastic when she growled at us, but more likely to have a fit of laughter enough to crack my ribs in her quarters as soon as she got there. More people were cheering us on and taking pictures and videos now. We kept going as long as I could breath before I said we should get out of there. 'Oooh's followed us to the door and someone yelled for us to get a room, another following it up with a remark about it being any but in the hospital wing. That, I had to laugh at, but we made it to Natasha and Clint's quarters without laughing, which I considered quite a feat.

"Have fun, boys?" she asked as we stumbled in before I fell onto their floor laughing. "Come on," she lifted me then turned to Clint, "I'll take your little boyfriend back to his room, eh?". My eyes were shut but I knew he'd be smiling.

* * *

**(Now Clint's perspective). It's not a jump because they still go to bed in the early afternoon.**

Natasha got back to our room quicker than I expected. When I gave her a quizzical glance she answered the unspoken question simply with "He wanted to get the best part back himself." I just nodded and grabbed her round the waist as she was untying her hair. Stupid organization wanting all the women in stupid unflattering buns. Often Nat would disobey but she'd been better behaved more recently. She didn't flinch as my arms snaked around to her front "You should get ready for bed" she murmured as she put a handful of bobby pins on the dresser in front of the mirror; she'd have both seen me approaching and expected me to hold her.

"Nah," I answered, "There's some things I'd much rather do." I said, and moved my hands to her hair, still behind her, to remove the rest of the hair accessories with better precision in that I could see them all and take out a few at once. She giggled at how my hands moved so violently to do this but still only gracefully stroked her scalp, turning in my arms when I'd done and planting a gentle kiss on my lips.

"What are the others?" she asked, eyebrow raised. I grinned and picked her up while telling her I'd show her.

Showing her obviously meant fastening her hands, spread eagle, in one of my bows and grabbing a set of handcuffs we had lying around to hold her ankles together. She grinned wickedly as I then jumped onto the bed and slowly laid over her, crawling up her body to lavish at her perk nipples through her vest. I crawled my way back down and made it obvious to her that I was giving her pants a disapproving look, then ripped them right off her body, she groaned at that. I then repeated the action from her nipples at her clitoris through the panties.

It was only going to be quick tonight, I could tell. As she moaned and bucked up against me hard, provoking an erection to rise. Though we were both fully clothed everything was perk - from Nat's nipples and clit to me. The image of making her cum without even having to enter her turned me on so much that I was determined to do it, slowly and sexily crawling back up her body like a predator. And I was, ready to devour my prey.

As an animal does, I bit on her neck first then lapped over her heart before biting there, too, lavishly and overly dramatically. Like a hawk does, I left my catch to make sure it was dead. Just as Nat was riled up I got up and walked to the vanity where I brushed the bobby pins away, put the instant coffee maker on, and sat with one leg over the other pretending to read the newspaper. Natasha's head turned up, I could tell, and I smirked into the page. She made some desperate whining noises. I ignored it. Good and dead for food equals good and_ ready_ for sex. After another minute she growled. I muttered "Feisty" into the cup of espresso that had just finished brewing. The first sip burned my tongue but she didn't need to know that. I kept up this charade of being interested in everything but what she was doing for another five or six minutes, which in reality was the exact opposite, until she gave another groan and lifted her hips off the bed to slam back down hard. I slowly placed my cup down and folded the newspaper back with my finger marking the page. "Something the matter, Natasha?"

"Cliiint... clint" she panted giving me puppy dog eyes. That was _my _thing. But she looked hot doing it. "I neeed you" it sounded exhaustive.

I acted reluctantly folding the paper, slowly finishing my coffee (really? at bed?) right down to the last dregs, and meticulously pushing the stool in then re-positioned it so it was dead straight with the dresser. Natasha whined from the bed. I climbed back on her, at first seemingly uncaring but then I couldn't stop a smirk from cracking my neutral face. As I clambered on, my cock dragging over her bellybutton and coming to rest between her ribs below her breasts. She moaned and pleaded "I neeed you" again, as if catching her breath. She looked up to my face and I took advantage of the exposed skin from craning her neck by leaning down to gnaw at it. This removed some of the pressure of my body on hers, though, and she moaned again and clamped her thighs tight together. "Cliiint...on...Baarr...ton...uhh" she groaned incomprehensibly and as I left a mark at the sensitive spot on her collarbone she came hard and hot soaking right through her panties. She smiled sweetly and whined, but in content this time.

Her green eyes begged me as she pushed her torso off the bed and into me. Okay then, time for round two, ding, ding, dong. Like with her pants I just ripped her shirt right off and managed to remove her panties with one skillful finger twist, lifting them up while straddling her midriff and lusciously wiping my face with her juices while she watched and launched her body up at me, making pleasured but pained noises at the same time. Here I was above her, nearly naked and unable to separate her legs, and the thought alone, not including what I could do to her, made me go hard, and I pushed my erection up into her cleavage then decided to remove her bra through more... conventional methods. Snaking one arm slowly behind her back with the other supporting me above her, then I unlatched the hinges one by one and slowly dragged the strap round to her front, never breaking eye contact. I then switched arms more careful than I needed and slid my other arm inconceivably more slowly behind her back, the exposed skin of her back tingling and shivering from the touch, then slowly pulled the other strap around to her front. I had just begun to pull up over her arms the contraption I only really understand to make women's tits look bigger when I realized my problem. Okay, seriously, how do girls get bras off with one hand from under layers of clothing when the hooks are behind them? In this moment, I didn't care to ask, nor anything but push my cock up under the center of the cups then launching my pelvis up to rip the center with my mouth. It also pulled Natasha up, too, then dropped her back on the bed when I'd bitten through her bra. She groaned and made a sound that resembled "Ungh-hgh" or your everyday caveman from legal.

I then got off of her again and she moaned, throwing her body towards the edge of the bed, I came back over, shaking my head, and put her back so she wouldn't fall off. She pouted again and blinked rapidly, sticking her bare chest out. I walked round to the foot of the bed then thought of something... experimental. I came back round and knelt over her thighs this time. She seemed pleased when I released her hands. I tied one back to the headboard with my belt, however, even if she seemed pleased that I'd taken off some clothing too I left her free hand on her cunt and stood back up, going to the end of the bed again. Slowly, like a model I thought, I pulled my t shirt over my head. I threw it above Nat's head and she pushed her head back to watch it's entire path. I then pulled off my socks slowly and wrapped them up carefully, then unraveled them to shoot them into the laundry pile we really should take care of soon. "You know, Barton, this is so far the most prolonged strip tease I've ever watched" she muttered as I turned back to her, noticing she'd moved her hand (typical) and was now fondling her own breasts. Well, that made me speed right up, doing a little hips-don't-lie dance before pulling my pants and shorts down in one swift movement and leaving them at my ankles as I grabbed my length and began to rub it in a fist, calling Nat's name on every upstroke. In response Natasha mirrored the movement and called my name, pushing her middle finger up into her vagina. When she began to shiver and really scream my name I leaped straight onto the bed, kneeling either side her own knees with my ankles still surrounded by material. I plucked her finger from her hot mess and licked it up and down like I was about to make her do my dick. When I was sure her thin finger was good and clean I shuffled up her and once I'd passed her stomach she instinctively lifted her head then took in my length and started bobbing. "You know...this would.. be a lot... easier if... you untied... my hand" she got out in time with the down strokes, the breath and words on my length forcing me to press it against her throat.

Natasha had never been fond of blow jobs, let alone deep throat, but seemed to not care this night for whatever reason and swallowed me in. I had been deprived of this action for so long that I slammed a hand against the wall and nearly fell against her, moaning. "But your pretty mouth is doing such a good job already" I replied and she sweetly laughed, only faintly in the back of her throat, but it was enough to set me off and I began to fuck her mouth, my other hand coming down to first tangle in her hair and then roughly grab at it to push her face into my groin as I was pushing back. After a minute and collective moans from both parties, her tongue darted out to lick my balls and I decided to try something new, jerking up a little bit to fill her mouth with my bollocks. She pushed her tongue between the sac fold and bit gently on each ball enough for me to spill a bit down her throat. I could almost sense my juices trickling down her throat and she gasped before panting and blowing all around me. I had stopped thrusting when she had begun to bite and now I started up again.

She groaned and panted again, I first noticed that I was slamming her head back against the board now and stopped, then looked back and noticed that her fingers - three! - had gone to her muff. Well, if that's what she wanted. I viciously ripped my genitals from her mouth and she gasped, whether from relief or disappointment at the space again I couldn't quite tell. I then gave her a soft kiss which turned into her grabbing my face with her hand. I darted my tongue out to catch the fingers that had been inside her and sucked them off while licking my own taste from inside her mouth. The mixture was perfect and she seemed to catch the scent because she then began to lick my tongue and pushed her fingers back through my hair, which had grown too long, and pushing the flops back from my face. She pulled back and looked into my eyes then pressed her open lips against mine again. I sucked on her bottom lip as I shuffled back down the bed, now framing her face with hands like she was mine, and sank my cock between her legs gently. When I swallowed her moan I pushed in further then sank myself into her and after the third time I'd pushed right up to the hilt, so balls deep my balls were hanging behind her labia. Nat was trying to undo my belt around her wrist when I looked up at her, so I leaned right up, shifting inside of her, to do it instead, my penis leaning into her slick pussy further and hitting her G-spot. She bucked involuntarily and I began to slowly rock in and out, leaving in nothing in but the head then forcefully pushing in all the way down, each time she called out so loud I was sure she would deafen my tonsils, our kiss never breaking. I breathed her air and she breathed mine and she whispered in with it instructions. First "Hard-har-haaarrdeeerrr!" as I complied mid way through and then "Faster, Clint, faster so I can't see the movement" to which my eyes shot wide. That was fast.

"I'm only mortal, Nat. If you wanted fast you should have jumped the Flash when he visited." she smirked into my mouth and I knew a witty retort was on its way to me,

"I'm sure Rodriguez is pretty fast" she licked the inside of both my lips before flattening me onto the bed. When had she spun us around? I really should have noticed that. I released her lips from my teeth's vice-like grip and she leaned back, stretching and smirking, giving me a full view of those wondrous breasts and letting my dick push into her G-spot at the same time. I decided to work my abs again and slammed my pelvis up hard and fast like she wanted, continuously hitting her G-spot, then decided this work-out needed to be taken up a notch and lifted my torso off the bed at the same time, intending to take her titties into my mouth, grinning like a Cheshire cat so wide I was sure I could fit them both in. Just as my tongue left my gob she pushed a hand into it and pressed my head back to the bed. She bent right over to fiddle with the cuffs around her ankles and got free, spreading her legs wide to be in a squatting position on my cock. She was so beautiful I wanted to slam her into the sheets right that second and fuck her until the bed broke and she couldn't remember her name. I was going to be attempting to avoid her in the hope that I wouldn't grab her and christen the nearest hard surface for weeks - no, make that months.

"I'm going to ride you like a Russian" she leaned over and whispered in my ear, leaving me shivering and causing me to involuntarily buck up into her. Clearly the hand stuff had done a good job as she came at her own words. I giggled, I loved her, I really did, but that _had_ to be posted on at least SHIELD chat room tomorrow. Then I would hide.

"Go on then, I'm like your bike" I smirked up at her, her walls grasping at me and rippling like they were about to give out had given me the hots, I'll admit it. I was very close, but I wanted to see how this could play out. Apparently, Russian hookers will go into the position she had - squatting like girls on camp without a toilet - and do that little dance of theirs without all the kicking, squats and sideways lunges. Up and down, up and down, bending their knees and nothing else. Her breasts didn't bounce once. I figured this must be the reason why Russia has the lowest number of overweight whores, they were constantly exercising. Don't even ask where and how I'd come across those statistics. Long story that involves a dangerous wanted Uzbekistan national, and a debate over a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich.

This stuff was hot and all, but it wasn't doing it for me. She looked annoyed. Clearly that one usually worked. I shrugged "'m not Russian, love" I stated simply, pushing some hair back from her face. She replaced her legs in the regular straddle position.

"Dude, if you do not ejaculate soon I shall urinate all over you". Maybe it was her slang term of affection for me juxtaposed with the proper words for 'cum' and 'pee' that made me realize she was deadly serious, maybe it was because she barely ever wasn't deadly serious, but whichever I decided this needed to happen fast.

"Prostate, Nat, if you're that desperate" she smirked. She knew I had preferences over, and reservations about, doing prostate. It was all great though, I didn't need a shower until after my next training session. Which, after today, would not be tomorrow. She pressed her fingers on one hand up behind my bollocks and wiggled one from her other hand into my ass. I grunted, her nails were sharper than I thought. That, however, plus her riding me, got me going so quick she had to remove her finger from my ass to keep from pulling something by restraining me against the bed and the memory foam mattress. The indentations from her body and my knees brought back the short ago memory of what I was doing to her just earlier and I flooded into her. It was the hardest I'd come in a long while. And I groaned, falling back of my own accord after crunching with release. The moment felt so sweet.

Natasha slid right off me once I was done and licked me clean as I clearly had no intentions of moving. I would have been aroused again if I wasn't so spent. She then did something that showed affection - a real first for Nat - and kissed each of my balls and then the tip of my dick. I just smiled like an idiot.

She didn't pee all over me, but she did pee in the bed, not quick enough to get to our bathroom. And I took the blame for it the next day. One of the doctors who had been in the ward when Rodriguez and I had been revealed just said "Oh, I didn't think urinary dysfunction was contagious, guess my medical training was wrong." Of course I gave a sarcastic laugh and of course I told the agent in question. He was just glad the jokes weren't actually about him.

**okay, I have no idea if that's how Russians ride or not, don't quote me x**


	4. Chapter 4

**hello! okay, we are back to Rodriguez' (new agent's) perspective...**

"Hey!" I recognized the voice almost immediately, but not that it was calling out to me until Clint caught up and grabbed me by the shoulder. "Hey, dude, I just had a great idea!" The too kind and suspicious smile came up on his face again and I responded hesitantly, wondering if it really was a great idea or not.

"What's the idea?"

"'Kay, so, I know some exercises which build up... your junk. Like, bulk it out and stuff, if you're interested."

"Really?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Yeh, Hill agreed that no-one can perform at their best unless they're feeling at their best and clearly you're a little self-conscious at the mo-"

"_clearly_?" I interrupted incredulously.

"Dude, you're off your game. You _stuttered_ in the meeting yesterday."

"'kay, continue"

"Well, yeh, that's it. You wanna go train?"

I sighed and kept on walking, Clint followed me to my office where I dumped my briefcase and picked up the issued kit bag I'd never opened. "I've been needing an excuse to get out of this suit for a while, Barton" I added as we left and he eyed the plastic wrap around the bag confused.

* * *

When I ripped the plastic off in the changing rooms, all the other male agents nude in there mostly, I obviously had to get tangled in it. And ten points to Ravenclaw for Rodriguez' obvious ability to remove a single fastened sheet of only slightly reinforced cellophane and make it into a fancy bow with his appendages sticking out in an equally awesome pattern. It was an obvious talent I should have included in CVs past.

The kit bag, I discovered, held some form-fitting training shorts that looked more like underwear and a form-fitting t shirt. They were both black, and both had the SHIELD logo on. There was also a set of matching training pants and hoody, sweat bands, water bottle and a collection of monitors and things in a special little case with pockets and fasteners for each of them. There was also a hand gun with blanks, fitted with the latest tech so that only I can fire it, plus noise-cancelling headphones that fit my ears and head perfectly, and goggles that fit round my face perfectly, and look cool. There were bandages and chalk for individual training exercises, and a jumpsuit with separate sock things for gymnastics. Everything fit my body exactly, and it was clear that the SHIELD costume department clearly took those 3D body scans really seriously. It was almost creepy. What was definitely creepy was the fact that every article was black, some with different shades of gray on for variety (and, you know, to look super-spy awesome), with the SHIELD logo and my name on. There was also a 4-pack of 750ml sports drinks, and another of energy drinks. The first was blue and the last yellow. Clint walked out of a cubicle, the only guy who used them, and noticed me checking the drinks out.

"You'll want those" he said, nodding to them "Now get changed". I nodded as answer and shoved everything but the sport shorts and shirt back in the bag. Clint walked over. He took one bottle of each of the drinks and squirted some of each into my bottle, after fishing all the things from my bag. _Even the bag was black and gray with the logo and my name on (both twice, at least)._ He threw the slightly empty bottles to my bag and shook the drinks bottle. I wondered if the drink inside would now look green as I began to pull the shorts on, having already the shirt on. "Whoh!" Clint interjected, "You don't wear your underwear under those" he explained, "they fit your naked body perfect and precisely." then he added as an afterthought, "Huh, might have to get you new shorts after this." I could only smile slightly back as I walked into the cubicle he had left and changed unceremoniously, tripping over both my underwear and then the shorts multiple times each, one foot in and no balance half the time. I walked back out and spun my undies into my bag from the across the room. Another 50 points to Ravenclaw as Rodriguez manages to land the shot but - oh! Ladies and gentlemen, the newcomer has managed to spin them so efficiently they bounce back and return to the hand he just threw with! And, ladies and gentlemen, you can tell he played Frisbee all alone through middle school because he was such an outsider...

Clint laughed. "You could probably use that in the field, hey, but just chuck'em in now, eh?" I did, like my underwear was a basketball, and totally missed. Clint did not laugh, he was nice enough not to, but just picked them up and absentmindedly flicked them in. "m'Glad you don't pee in your pants like some guys have to." he said as he clapped me on the back when we left, having shoved our bags into lockers, and his other hand giving me my bottle.

* * *

Ok, I never thought I was unfit but _man_ did these exercises Clint was teaching me break you. They also stung your penis area. I'm pretty sure it was swelling from pain more than anything else and I could barely walk after ten minutes. Clint, was totally fine. "You do this a lot?" I asked

"Oh yeh, it's like nature's Viagra."

"does Natasha know?"

"She does'em too. Well, stuff like it. Lots of fun."

Disbelief filled my face at this answer. "Well, come on," he said to that, then lifted one bent leg before rotating his hip, "Let's get started!"

"Started!?" and here I thought we'd nearly finished.

* * *

After the workout Clint throws my bag at me and tells me to open the side pocket. There was a side pocket. In the side pocket, is a med case with a lot of things I don't know what they do, all colorful. The med case, of course, was black with the SHIELD logo and my name. It also had a small red cross on, too.

I was rooting through the unknown items with a puzzled expression and Clint just pulled what looked like a groin guard for sparring out. It wasn't one, though, all the sparring kit was in a drawstring sack in the main part of the bag. "This is a crotch support. You might ache for a bit. Bit of swelling if you're not used to the exercise. Don't stand up too quick or go running for a bit. Wear this, but not at night, until it doesn't hurt." I just nodded and headed for a cubicle to change in. I could feel Clint's eyes on me and turned back.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to shower?" I looked over at the large communal shower area, the other half of the room with only a pillar in the center of the room and the lockers to the right to separate the tiled zone with about fifty shower heads from the changing zone of many low benches, a coupple clothes hooks on the far wall, and exactly six cubicles.

"I think I'll wait until I get back to my room" I answered, eyeing up the four or five naked inhabitants of the shower. Clint crossed his arms then walked over to me, stripped me down and pushed me in then threw some body wash at me.

"It's Nat's." he says, "smells like flowers and fruit and stuff." I manage to catch it, but it's slippy, so I drop it sideways back towards Clint. Oddly, it acts like a boomerang like my underwear did and spins right back to me just as it leaves the showering zone. "Hmm" Clint makes a noise and ponders as he watched this before stripping himself and showering, too. He's the clown, circus boy as some (*Coulson*) call him, and winks at me before adding "If you're really good, I might let you rub the smelly stuff on me." At that point, the only other guy in the shower gasps. We both laugh, though, so he realizes - or pleads with reason - that Clint's joking.


	5. Chapter 5

**I did a bad thing. i went on a training course and ididn't tell you guys. i do have ths chapter though :)**

**daniel x**

"Hey-low" Clint said slowly as he appeared behind my locker door. I slammed it shut and turned to look at him.

"What? Nat told me to be cautious, you've been scheming lately"

"Yep, and I have a brilliant opportunity for you to move up the ranks here much quicker!"

"Brilliant idea, huh?" I turned again now as the slightly shorter man wrapped his arm around my shoulders and proceeded out of the changing rooms with me in tow.

"Walk with me," he suggested even though I alresdy was, "There's this.. test, that we have some people do. I think you'd pass with flying colors!"

"Uh-huh"

"It's simple, really. Come by the second-level medical exam rooms tomorrow."

"Second level med exam! What? I don't want to be re-assigned to a handler!"

"Oops, the med exam rooms on the second level. Probably should have explained that." Clint quickly turned to be in front of me, "See you there, 0800. You won't need anything" and he dashed off, muttering 'Natasha'. I chuckled and turned around, heading in the direction I should be. My office.

My boring, gray, office. My boring, gray office on the 5th basement level of S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ in Helena - relocated after a certain Hulk "accident" that I really didn't want to deal with. The heating wasn't fully set up yet. It was freezing, and my little boy certainly noticed the temperate change when the elevator doors opened. Just my day. I had to deal with some Asgardian warriors coming to visit today also. Until then, I had nothing to do but play games on my computer. There are a surprising number of employees around S.H.I.E.L.D with nothing better to do than play Galaga sometimes, which is what I would choose to do until whoever managed to help direct the aliens down here.

* * *

The woman soldier was beautiful.

She was elegant but could hold her own. She was clearly in charge of the other three as she stepped in ahead of them, even being in front of Agent Marks. Then, however, she hung back and let the others stand closer. That wasn't hanging back, though. Being an agent here involves a lot of behavioral psychology lessons, and she was asserting her authority. She was the closest to the exit, she was in a defensive position that could easily become a fighting stance should she be challenged, and she could see all her men. She wasn't leading them into battle, and so she can stand back and monitor them, just as I was monitoring her. She had yet to look at me, to look at anything properly. When she'd walked in she'd seen the room but she hadn't looked around. She wouldn't be able to recall it, and had yet to properly acknowledge anything but the other warriors. When I stood up, she looked at me. Her face was less cold than I expected to be. She didn't look like she was emanating all this power and radiating the need to worship and follow, but she was. It was remarkable. Just for that I would follow her lead, she looked trustworthy even if she shone danger.

"Pleased to see us?" she then asked, subtly.

I'd forgotten about the chilly little problem, but now it seemed like the heat in here was contributing more.

"Not really, organizing you will be the bane of my day, and it's been freezing down here all alone."

"cheer up, we're amazing, aren't we boys?"

"We can have beer!" bboomed the first one, who then held out his hand, "Fandral" he announced.

"Rodriguez" I replied, shaking it.

The other two men repeated this gesture but the woman didn't budge so I walked over to her and proffered my hand.

"Rodriguez" I told her.

"Sif," she replied, she then released my hand waved her arm toward the three men, "and these are the Warriors Three. We were sent here to assist in S.H.I.E.L.D. matters by the All-Father, to aid the Prince, Thor."

"Right, okay." I answered to the rehearsed speech. "I don't know anything about that, but I'm going to be looking after you while youre here, really just to elp you fit in. You'll be staying here in HQ, though, so I don't see the point really, you probably won't be going out at all."

"It was good to meet you." Sif told me.

"Erm, you to. Perhaps Marks here can show you to your rooms, and we'll have that beer tonight?"

"Sounds good" replied Hogun, and Sif nodded. Marks led the Warriors three to the elevator and she followed.

"See you tonight" she waved, smiling enigmatically.

She was beautiful.

* * *

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uucccccccccccccccccccccccckk kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"

Going on that bender last night with the knights was a terrible idea. They closed the bar and, apparently, Sif carried me back to my room as I was passed out from drunkenness. Woo! I cheered myself sarcastically, raising a fist and nodding my head, but just earned pain as my hangover wasn't going away anytime soon.

Fuck. I have to meet Clint. Shit Fuck Cockity Fuck-balls. I'm late. Late and naked with a hangover in tow. Tracksuit it is.

"Good morning, Director Fury" I greeted as I walked into the area of the second level dedicated to med exam rooms. Then I stopped and spun. Ow, headache, you douche.

"Good morning, Director" I repeated. _What was he doing here?_

"Good morning, Agent Rodriguez. I trust you enjoyed pissing yourself fuck-ass stupid last night?" he responded so level it was ridiculous.

"If i'm, honest, Director, I don't remember all that much"

"Well, Captain America does, and apparently you got lucky." _Captain America was there?_ "According to Rogers you almost started a fight, throwing a beer bottle towards someone who made you spill a bit-" _That doesn't sound like me. But i guess i _was _drunk_. "- but the bottle returned to your hand before it hit him, and all the beer floated right back into it, too. You're one lucky son-of-a-bitch, Rodriguez. No-one coulda covered your stupid-fucking-ass if that hadn't a happened."

Then Clint appeared from down the hall.

"Not the first time it's happened, Director. Rodriguez managed to coax a slippy soap bottle back to him in the showers, and his.."

I cleared my throat. It was ridiculous.

"That's why I suggested him for Xavier's test. I think he has some sort of telekinesis. A boomerang effect or something."

"I guess" the director began, "We'll have to let Dr Xavier decide on that. And you," he turned back to me, "get your super-powered ass into that exam room!"

"Is he always like that?" I whispered to Clint as I passed.

"Hey! Impaired vision means heightened other senses! I can hear you!" Fury called.

"Suitbale name" I then whispered instead.

"Get in there, funny man!" Fury yelled.

* * *

In the exam room were Dr's Blake and Carter.

"Hello" I waved at them.

"Hi there," began Carter. She put a vase in my hand. Blake moved to lock the glass door and stood in front of. Carter turned me so that he was my target. She attached pads to pressure points on my body.

"Okay, first" she said, "throw the vase at Blake".

I did so without question. It got close but returned to my hand.

"Good." she said, "Now I'm going to give you a small electrical shock-" I turned my head to her, looking shocked. "Don't worry, it's tiny, just enough to make you involuntarily throw the vase."

"Okay," I responded, nodding my head as if they needed my permission to do anything.

She gave me the shock and the vase flew out of my grip as my muscles spasmed. It had more of a downward trajectory this time, and came back just before it hit the floor.

"Interesting" she muttered non-commitedly as she scribbled some things down. I knew the whole session was being recorded and, along with Carter's notes, would be sent to Charles Xavier. Perhaps he would take me to his school. No, I was here at S.H.I.E.L.D. and if anything they'd want to keep me as one of their assets.

She then put some electrodes on my head, and my throwing hand, as well as a wireless signal mapper on the vase, presumably to monitor my brain and hand activity and then see if there was any connection, or unexplained signal, from the vase when it returned.

"Now we repeat," she said, and I threw the vase at Blake again. All the signal recordings would also be sent to Xavier. It felt kinda weird to know he would be watching this back. Before Carter gave me the next shock I looked around to find one of the cameras, there were lots, and smile directly into it.

"Stop that" said Blake, "Focus."

Carter turned round at that, then a second later glared at me. "Focus, agent." She instructed, unknowing of my 'crime'.

* * *

**Clint and Natasha now, Natasha's perspective**

Clint was walking up to me and gave me a look that said "follow me" as he stormed past. I had no idea what was wrong with him - I know him well enough that it could be one of many things, and well enough to not know everything - and so obliged.

"You told Rodriguez to avoid me! Why?"

"Was I right to?" I asked in answer

"Probably." I smirked.

"That's my point made, thank you" I began to walk off but he caught me by the wrist.

"Hey, where're you goin'?"

"Somewhere that's not here, what's it your business?"

"Wrong. Bedroom, now." and he used his grip to swing me over his opposite shoulder, I started thumping at his back and kicking and lashing out pointlessly, I could tell he would be smiling. He liked this game.

"Fireman's lift?" I began when he had stopped running and I had stopped faking fighting back and was casually walking with me over his shoulder, "So, you just saved me from Stark's stupid burning tower and I'm _extremely _grateful?"

"Whatever you like" he honestly answered as he opened the door and pressed my back against it, then his lips against mine.

"no foreplay today? disappointing."

Clint then stopped, let me down, and sat on the bed.

"Tell me I did the right thing."

"What?"

"I think Rodriguez has superpowers so I made him do Xavier's test. I did the right thing, right?"

"I don't know - I really don't know. We don't know what the results will be, or what will happen either way."

"I'm certain they'll be in the positive. Things he throws when he doesn't want to... boomerang. They fly right back to him." I was now sat next to him and was gently rubbing circles on his back.

"Make love to me, Clint. Slow and... loving."

His head snapped up and his eyes held the question "what the fuck?!". I knew it wasn't like me, but I felt like we both needed this right now.

He didn't respond, just stood up and turned, then crouching on one knee he pulled my t-shirt over my head. Then he wrapped his arms around me and unfastened my bra. Then he stood up and held out a hand for me to take as I stood up, too. Normally I would have giggled at this kind of thing, but I just couldn't. It was caring. It was... love. He then pulled my simple pants down and helped my stepped out of them, and repeated this with my panties. I didn't know what he would do now that he had finished undressing me, then he placed his hands around mine and placed mine on his collarbone. I knew he wanted me to take his clothes off similarly, so I obliged.

When we both naked he picked me up bridal-style and just kissed me, slowly, for a minute or so.

"I know I said slow but this is painful, get on it hawkeye!"

He smiled, not a smirk. "Let's hope I don't miss. And thank you."  
I smiled back, the same smile.

Clint layed me on the bed and then pressed his whole body onto mine.

"I think you did what was right." I whispered, and he pulled back to looked into my eyes, "You went with your instinct. It's never failed you yet."

He smiled at that. "I hope my instinct's isn't wrong, then." he said. "And I hope it's not wrong right now."

I gave him a quizzical look "Right now? what's it telling you?"

"it tells me, that I should ask you something."

"What?"

"you think I should try and to find Rodriguez a girlfriend?" I slapped him. The moment had been practically perfect; his weight was comfortable and we were slowly sinking into the mattress so I felt weightless. I had been so intense and then he jokes. I slap him again from just the thought of it.

"Propose. Now." I demanded

"er... that... thoughts..." Clint paused for a short while before he could actually say coherent words, "Didn't you want sweet love-making?"

"I want a proposal first. Don't wreck this."

"But you-"

"I want it now. I didn't want it before. But now I do. With you. And I want a proposal now. Like, right now."

"You'd have it if I could think of the perfect way to do it." He muttered and it clearly wasn't intended for me to hear, but I did anyway. I smiled.

"Love-making then." At that he smiled, and leaned down to kiss me, moving his hands to my breasts. For at least twenty minutes we were like this, lying there kissing and holding each other, before he shifted and suddenly kissed me harder as he entered me. He groaned unashamedly, which made me do the same. He moved slowly, however, but it was sensual and the heat was growing intense even as he slowed down and he came calmly but quickly, and I followed similarly. He laid gently back onto me.

"That was beautiful" he commented under his breath, and without a hint of sarcasm creeping in.

"Yes" was what I managed to respond.

"Just like you" he breathed out, and all I did was nod as aceptance. "Can we, go out tomorrow? I mean, for dinner, or something."

"Not very good at this are you?" I joked, smiling.

"Better than you. So, that bar that serves your favorite fries? Don't lie, I know you love it."

"A bar, how romantic" I rolled my eyes, "They serve my favorite dish ever at that posh continental place 42 miles North-North-East. Tomorrow, 8, wear something nice."

"See, better than you." We both smiled now and he just rolled onto his side and hugged me.

* * *

**Rodriguez' POV**

"You call this beer?!" Came the cry from Volstagg, which could be heard in every alcove of the bar, probably even in the "private rooms" at the back, and the apartments above.

"I didn't, Volstagg," I interjected, "But the barman did."

"You, sir!" He yelled at the man who was looking sheepish from my tattling. "Why do you call this dirty water ale?"

"Erm, I just serve it. My boss orders it in." he looked about ready to swallow his own vocal cords

"I shall accept! What food do you serve, or should it be rotting horse flesh?" he joked, and the barman weakly laughed. The Warriors Three were lovely guys, Sif included.

"We have steak, or burgers, or..."

"What?" Fandral asked. "I'm sorry, but we're new around here. Do you perhaps have any meaty sustenance within bread, or bowels of fruit?"

"He means sandwiches, or _bowls_ of fruit." I quickly corrected, "They're new here. And they like beer." I added as an afterthought, causing everyone to raise their casks.

"Hear, hear!" cried Sif, louder than Volstagg had been, "Especially I!" The four of them laughed, but Sif downed her beer fastest of them all, then held it aloft while waiting for the others before they all slammed them down and united in a cry of "Another!"

The barman nodded and returned with five beers, five strangely large subs and a glass of water.

"Here, gentleman, lady." Sif raised her eyebrow and rolled her eyes.

"We are warriors!" She cried, and the Warriors Three cheered in agreement, and Sif nudged me to join in. At least, I thought, shaking my head at my thighs, I'd gotten them to wear jeans and t-shirts, though Sif has refused to be away from her sword. They all, thinking about it, each had at least one weapon on their person, as did I. I had a gun. A personalized gun, from the guys at the shooting range, who all welcomed me onto their competition team. Personally, I thought it was unfair, governament-trained marksmens forming an amateur shooting squad to compete with teams of PAs and accountants. But sometimes, we threw the game, or at least preform as well as we could, In order to not seem _too_ good.

"We shall eat!" Sif declared when they'd settled from their last raucous agreement, but it happened again. I joined in voluntary, and Sif, noticing this, turned and smiled at me in approval.

"First," she called, causing the three to slowly shut their mouths and put their food down, "A toast to our new friend, Warrior..."

"Oh, me. Er, Rodriguez. Or Daniel, nobody calls me that though, they call me Driop, my middle name. Clint's started calling me 'boomerang', too."

"Our new friend, Warrior Driop!" and we drank. The three began to messily devour their hogies. "The Hawk Man calls you boomerang?" Sif asked, picking up her own food and taking a delicate bite, I nodded, then when she had swallowed she asked "Why?"

"Oh, he thinks it's my 'superpower' or something."

"Superpower?" Fandral and Hogun asked, looking up from their hogies. Volstagg was still engrossed in food Valhalla.

"Oh, yeh. You know Thor, how he can throw his hammer then it comes back? It's like that, but with anything, really. I don't really know much, just that I haven't dropped a thing since I left college."

"The Man of Iron says you are wise, too. You should fight with them!" Sif told us, Volstagg still blissfully ignorant.

"no, I'm more of an office guy."

"Nonsense!" Fandral declared, taking out his sword and jumping onto the tabletop from a seated position - it looked awesome, pointing the blade at me. I grabbed Sif's sword from her back and stepped onto the seat in one movement. The reflection told me two things: One, that because I had bent one leg behind the other to put my foot on the seat then stood it looked like I'd just floated up, pretty elegant and more awesome, and Two, that Sif's mouth was hanging open. I grinned and stepped casually onto the table. Fandral swished his sword. I wasn't stupid enough to try that.

"Give me back my sword!" Sif shouted, no longer entranced

"You have your blade stick thingy!" I yelled back, not breaking eye contact.

"Very true!" Sif yelled happily, picking it up from the floor and climbing onto the table with us.

"This isn't equal now!" Fandral announced.

"It is now!" Hogun yelled, swinging himself up onto the table while swinging his mace out, symmetrical movements. I forgot how all these Asgardians were 'at one' with their weapons. Unfortunately, he managed to knock Volstagg's beer over in the process, causing the beast to put down his food and grab Hogun by the near leg and throwing him to the other side of the bar. Fandral saw the opening and thrust his sword at me - not aiming to mortally injure me, but I blocked it anyway and Sif hit him behind the knees so he fell. Volstagg seemed to want to join in at that very moment and clambered onto the table with us, causing it to collapse. Fandral fell back onto the seat and had the high ground as Hogun returned and began to swing his mace around. I simply put Sif's sword in front of it until the chain was caught on the blade and ripped it from Hogun's grasp. Sif and Fandral were sword-fighting to our side, but between us was Volstagg, who wanted to wrestle evidently as he let out a battle cry, causing me and Hogun, who were facing each other, to turn to be stood side-by-side as he charged at us, one under each arm.

I still had the mace on the sword, so I threw it back to Hogun over Volstagg's back and mimed "3, 2, 1!" before we both struck the giant on his ass at the same time. I used the flat of the sword to hit him so I think the mace hurt more, which was confirmed as he threw me into Sif before tackling Hogun again. Sif and Fandral had still been engaged in a sword fight when I landed on her back, knocking her into Fandral who fell back onto the broken table. It was then, when Sif turned to look at me, that I noticed we'd been fighting like, well, like Vikings, in the middle of a bar. It's a good thing most of the middle was cleared for dancing or karaoke or something.

Everyone in the bar was staring agape at the five of us. Fandral picked himself up and joined me and Sif looking back at the other diners just as Hogun sprung onto one of the little tables dotted around the middle space before hopping off just as Volstagg landed on it, onto another table, in the infamous crouching position, mace above his head. Volstagg smashed the table and landed on his front. Hogun was about to pounce when I called at them.

"HOGUN, VOLSTAGG!" I yelled as loud as Volstagg himself, maybe even Sif, and felt quite proud. They then realized, too, that we had been fighting in here and were stood wielding giant weapons, and began to uselessly attempt to correct the tables when Sif grabbed her sword back from me. I didn't automatically recognize it was her and immediately reflexively grabbed my gun and aimed it at her chest, safety clicked off and two hands holding it by my head in the same second she grabbed the sword.

"Sorry, reflex," I said, returning the gun with safety off to its holster under my clothes. "They trained me well." I added in a whisper so only my comrades could hear, Hogun and Volstagg having made there way over as I put the gun away. Sif apologized herself, saying it was nothing then

"I see now why the young ones warn not to surprise your kind!" she used her 'indoor voice'. The three laughed along with us, it wasn't a joke.

Then I felt awkward but turned to the barman and said "I guess we'll be going now." walking over to pay our total, with a generous tip. The shock still hadn't left his face.

"Who-o ah-are you?" One small woman asked, sat near the door, as we were about to leave.

I turned and looked back to check I was the one to speak. I was stood at the right of the group but when we turned all at once I was at the front, and it looked like we were in formation.

"I am the Warrior Driop, this is Lady Sif," I gestured to myself, then Sif to my right who stepped forward to be just behind me and to the side, "And these the Warriors Three," I gestured to my left, than thought I'd make a show of it, clapping Fandral, the closest, on the back, and pulling him forward, "This be Fandral the Dashing, and I believe you have already heard the names of Hogun the Grim," the small man stepped forward, between and just behind me and Fandral, in line with Sif, "and Volstagg the Valiant." who stepped up behind both Fandral and Hogun, one hand on one of their shoulders each. Both Sif and Fandral, who had shuffled back to be behind me but still slightly in front of Hogun, on the outside, were wielding their sword in the hand on the outside. We definitely looked in formation and I wondered if the four of them often did this.

A man behind the woman who had asked then spoke up, the surprise fading from him sooner than the other customers, "You guys need music, when you're finished saying who you are and you stand like that, you need awesome music to start playing, then the titles begin to roll and then the titles fade then the music fades into rolling scenery, and you guys are in a huge battle, just the five of you against a massive army of giants!" He gesticulated as he spoke, then flung his arms out, after some response from us. I had nothing to say.

"That battle sounds too familiar." Sif told him, then turned so the rest of us followed and we left.

I overheard the barman inside say "They weren't kidding when they said they were new here."

Maybe they were right, it felt pretty good to be in some kind of team. I checked my gun, and began to lead the four to a street I knew we could find a taxi at.

* * *

**Oh my, apparently I didn't upload this two weeks ago when i thought i had! So sorry.**

**Ooh, how do like the part from Natasha's perspective, i tried my best to get in her head!**

**daniel x**


	6. Chapter 6

**think this is gunna be the last guys, but i am planning on a Thor/Avengers X-over on the OC/Sif line...**

It was a good thing Natasha had diverted Clint's plans, I thought, because he wanted to go to the bar we had demolished and got the Avengers and most of the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel unofficially banned from last night. Instead he asked me to organize a reservation at Yat-Son. I asked Natasha about that and she explained the whole story.

"Best Chinese food this side of the Pacific." she told me, "I really like Chinese food." She qunatified.

"Not me, makes me ill. Got food poisoning from that funky chicken they have, haven't touched it since." It was nice how we could have these friendly convesations. I felt like I was becoming her gay best freind at times. This did not bother me, because she'd already confessed to me that she treated Clint as such the best part of the time, it felt like a priviledge.

Natasha (she still doesn't like anyone but Clint calling her Nat, something certain people - Tony fucking Stark - like to comment on) suddenly asked me if i knew Clint wanted to find me a girlfriend. I laughed.

"If he's trying, get him to ask Sif for me, please" I smiled and batted my eyelids on the last word, and she guffawed. I'm a funny man, what can I say?

She threw a cushion at me when she stopped "Get out of here and I might consider it, please" she smiled back. I acted mock-wounded. "You're copying Clint, now," she told me, returned to being stoic, "that's not a good thing" she said when i pulled Clint's cheesy excited face. She threw another cushion at me. I left, hands up in surrender.

* * *

**Clint's pOV**

_"Chinese?" _I asked, astonished. "I, well, why are we here?"

"It's romantic. Plus, I became a fan of Chinese on that mission to Xi'an, when you were in Senegal." she answered.

"Ah, Senegal..." I reminisced, "the French are pretty awesome ballerinas"

"They're not ballerinas when they're men" she told me matter-of-factly. She doesn't like when I get something about ballet wrong.

"You know I just did that to get on your nerves, right?" i quipped back

"Oh, yeh, but it's reflex, Barton." she added my name, bored, as if it were obvious.

"You didn't think I knew!" I smirked, realizing. "the Black Widow not knowing something about someone!"

"it was just incase," she shot back, "I can't let you not know about ballet when you have me know all about archery!"

"Archery comes in useful for you, whereas I," I gestured to my generally body, "am not gunna need ballet."

"Can't not help to know the theory. might come in useful." she smiled. I smiled. "Why you smiling, jerk-ass?" she grinned menacingly at me. I nodded behind her. The music turned into a piece from _"Giselle"_ as she turned her head. Two male and two female ballet dancers, Alexey Chovski, Sergey Tironov, Yelena Grovenova, and Natalia Jorovski, came into the restaurant. Rodriguez had organized this after Nat had told him about our dinner, and he'd told me just to nod at the bar when we were ready.

"What's this?" she asked after the medley began to carefully change into the next song part, turning back to me and I could see she was tearing up.

"Beautiful." I answered, answering her question and describing her when she let herself be open. She was beautiful like that, and she needed to know it. She turned back at my reverent remark - I was still gazing wondrously on the performance - and we just watched in silence to the basically private viewing until it ended, the men bowed and the women curtsied to us, and then they left. I smiled inwardly as I took the ring box out of my pocket and hand-springed over the table useing the other hand, landing in a kneeling position. A proposing position, right in front of Natasha as she was turning back. She was genuinely surprised to see my face looking up at her, so she must have been engrossed a lot. She was still a bit teary at the stunning performance, and I felt my eyes get damp just looking at hers. Someone at a table across from us cheered. Natasha looked up, probably glaring them into silence. Or suicide, but I couldn't care less.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova, vyydesh' za menya?" (_Will you marry me?_ spoken 'wee-dyuhz zy mee-na')

"Da, ty idiot" (_yes, you idiot_ spoken 'da, tee id-yote')

She started crying properly know and I think that guy from before wolf-whistled as I slipped the ring on her finger, mentally making a note to thank 'Driop' next time I saw him. He had certainly made an impression o nthe Asgardians, and Lady Sif had personally told me to stop calling him Boomerang, and use Driop. Which sounded more stupid in my eyes.

* * *

**Rodriguez' POV**

Director Fury walked in to my office. "We at S.H.I.E.L.D." he began, before I'd even had chance to say "_Hello, Director, good morning, Director, would you like a coffee since it's 3 am and we're both still working, Director, oh sorry, how are you, Director, because I'm shit, Director"_

"would like to offer you a new job." He finished. I blinked.

"You show exceptional field skills, agent," I blinked, "And can take leadership duties," I didn't blink, and I stopped myself from laughing, too. "Plus, with your enhanced abilities," so that's what they're calling them now, "We think you'd be a perfect candidate for our new Initiative."

"What is this Initiative, Sir?" I asked.

"It's like a back-up team for the Avengers, but the team's skill set will be more, physical. Yes, active fighting, and with weaponry. We're drawing up training contracts with the world's finest swordsmen as we speak. Your skills fighting with the Warriors Three did not go unnoticed. Thor already knew about this Initiative, and recommended you himself." The Director sounded too calm. He quirked his eyebrow. It was then that I looked properly at his face. The eyepatch was on the wrong eyye. I roundhouse kicked him to the temple.

Director Fury walked in to my office. "Took you longer than I thought. Morning, slow shit." he barked out. I nodded.

"Morning, Sir."

"Would you like the job?"

"Hmm? What, that?" My eyes momentarily darted to who-or what-ever I'd just knocked out.

"That was the final test. You passed. _Just._" He grinded out the last word, like he was disappointed I'd actually passed.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Yes." he replied. "You do. As Stark's latest stupid robot said - thanks for breaking it, by the way - there's a new Initiative. We're calling it the United League of Armed Warriors. We want you to be the leader. It'll be like a back-up squad, and not just for the Avengers but perhaps the Fantastic Four and the X-Men, for times when the superheroes need some boring-ass fighters."

"Thanks, Sir."

"When superpowers aren't working and people like you are needed. Apparently, the Medieval look is good. Read over this contract," he chucked it at me from under his cloak, "Everything's in there. It also says you can change to name if you think up something better."

"Batter than the United League of Armed Warriors? Hmm, how's just 'League of Armed Warriors'. Then it's shortened to L-A-W, or law."

"You wanna be called 'law'? Not bad agent," he clapped me on the back. "that's good. We'll cross out the word 'United' immediatedly." he took out his radio and left the room. I looked over the paperwork. Paperwork to be a superhero kind of sucks, but it was all rather good. There was one bit I didn't like: I couldn't choose my costume.

"Sir?" I asked when he came back in

"I trust you've read the contract over?"

"Yes, Sir, and it's all in line except for o-"

"You want to pick a costume, don't you?" he sighed.

"Er, yes, Sir." I felt slightly embarrassed.

"Everyone always wants to pick their own costume. Xavier warned us about this." he turned straight at me then, "Make sure it's appropriate and looks good. Make sure you can carry a double-bladed sword, a gun, throwing knives and a radio. Make sure there's inbuilt armor. Actually, you can have a meeting with the design lackeys. See what they're good for."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Sir."

"Driop?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Sign the paperwork already."

"Yes, Sir." I did so now that it was altered. I still had a question, though, "Sir, when the Warriors Three and Lady Sif visit, can they become part of the team?"

"Hmm. That's a pretty good idea for a stupid-ass warrior. Stop havign those today, you might injure your brain. I'd say yes, but the council - and the Asgardians - will have to authorize it. I think Thor has the final word on them, too."

"So the team, when it's formed, is the Avengers' back up when they just need us to come in and be extra guys in hand-to-hand combat."

"Yes."

"Who else will be on the team?"

"I acknowledge your question as neither good nor bad. You're lacking, lackey." I scoffed at this. "You know how Asgard and Midgard and Jotunheim are three of nine realms and I can't be fucking assed to remember the other six?"

"Yes, sir"

"Well, some warriors from Asgard but living in another of the realms - god knows which - are seeking refuge on Midgard because its under the protection of their Pricne, Thor, as well as the Avengers and such, and because whatever galaxy they're from has become a war state. Like trying to be a Jedi in Revenge of Sith, they were pretty screwed." So Fury watched Star Wars...

"They're Asgardian warriors like Thor, Sif, and the barbarians, and you've got to control them. Did you read the bit about theme music?"

"Yes, sir. I don't mind myself, Sir. Anyone can choose it."

"Yes, but you have to approve it, Warrior." I nodded. "Now, X found something intersting on your trests."

"Really?"

"Yes, he wants to look a t your DNA."

"Didn't they already tell him I was raised by my dad because my mother just vanished from the face of the Earth when I was born? I don't want to know the bitch!"

"That's the interesting part: he thinks she might be from one of the other realms, so she would literally have 'vanished from the face of the earth'."

"No disrespect, Sir, but I still don't want to know her."

"We won't find out who she is, just where she's from. They are asking doctors from Asgard to help, too, see what you're made of."

* * *

Three months had passed and LAW hadn't been called out on anything- we had to get ready, we had to be on call throughout all the Avengers, X-Men, and Fantastic Four missions, but we never did anything. Until today.

"Warrior Driop? Are your men ready?"

"Yes, Sir. The Warriors Three and the Lady Sif are here today, too, Sir."

"Good. There appears to be an undead giant Viking on the Brooklyn Bridge."

"Good thing we skipped out of Montana on the Helicarrier last week then, Sir."

"Shut up, it's your call, Warriors."

"Sir, are we officially sanctioned to lead our own defence?"

"Yes, Warrior-" at this point, Fury spoke over the mission director on the comms, "Get your kit on asap and get your stupid fucking ass down there. I know you can jump from 40 thousand feet so land your sorry fucking ass in Manhattan. You're teams going in first because it's more tailored to your skill set. If needed, the Avengers will be your backup today. Now jump outta the fucking hold and get someone to fly the rest of your team in a quinjet. You'll be holding the lines on your own for a little while, Driop."

I swallowed. "Yay, Solo mission."

"JUMP OFF THE FUCKING PLATFORM!" he barked, making me fall. I bounced back up off the air a second later and saluted at Sif, who chucked me my blade.

I winked at her as I caught it, "Hey, it's almost flying!" I cheered just before I began my short freefall, floated up a bit, and then leaned forward, sword out in front of me, to control my direction. We'd discovered this not long ago, because the sword's handle was in the middle if I held it sideways, perpendicular to my body and led down in the sky it made it possible to direct my almost-flying. This was, of course, caused by the counter-action of my boomerang skill. Soon I was landing just north of midtown, where the Viking was currently rampaging. The people had abandoned the street and were running towards downtown (and the subway) as I landed in the middle of 6th and 45th. Thay all turned to look at me, as did the Viking.

"You're a giant ghost." I muttered to myself, but it would go through the comms to my team and the unfortunate agent who was directing today.

"Okay, Marks, that you?" I positively yelled

"Um-hmm"

"Great. He was heading towards Central Park. Don't know why. Looks like Erik the Red. Don't know why. Get my team down quick. I'm going to try to apprehend him or chase him back the way he came until they do. He's not making it any further North than the Rockefeller, if I can't bring him down before the rest are down or he starts heading north again, send in the Hulk and Iron Man. If he goes towards Times Square, send in Iron Man. Got it?"

"Yes, Driop"

"He doesn't seem to understand English, either, which may be a good thing or a bad thing. I can't be certain." I said to Marks, the unfortunate agent, before turning my attention to the Viking ghost to try and confirm that.

"I am the Warrior Driop" I yelled in my Thor voice. "I am here to protect the people of the Earth." I boomed. "What be your call?"

He began to laugh. "Driop!" He yelled, "A fine foe! A worthy opponent! I must vanquish you before I can continue!"

"Hey, you distracted him!" Marks cheered in my ear.

"Shut up or I take you out." I snarled back, quietly.

The Viking, who I'd now decided probably was Erik the Red, swing his massive fucking club at me, but it was spiked like a mace. Or a pathogen, as I'd been a human biology minor (don't judge). I jumped as high as I could, aiming my self at the nearest building, causing myself to hang in the air, and for Erik to miss me. He turned to now swing at me again when I landed. I now noted that when I'd landed the first time, and now this time, I looked awesome, with the double edged sword held out in front of me, one foot landing just before the other in a defensive stance, and my head slightly bowing as I landed. This also allowed me to awesomely tilt it upwards to look into my opponent's eyes before I lunged or sprung or jumped or stabbed (or whatever) and smirk, grimace. I couldn't really do that with Erik without straining my neck, but he was looking where I'd just come from anyway.

"I want Hawkeye eyes in the sky, mate" I told Marks.

"Can't ,sorry."

"What do you mean, you can't!? I'm running this show." I was getting a little annoyed, all I could do was fly backwards and have the Viking chase me, the people who had been evacuating South all spreading out towards 5th, 7th, and further.

"Haven't been able to get Barton or Romanov for two weeks. Thought you'd know where they were better than us."

"Damn my amazing ballet arrangement skills!" I half-sarcastically cursed.

"Do you know how gay that sounded?"

"I'm the big bad warrior guy. I needed Hawkeye to stain his red hair arrow-colored!"

"That was terrible. But it wouldn't work anyway. You said it's a ghost, so arrows'd just go right through it."

"Him, he's Erik."

"Selvig? Don't think so. He's in, yeh, the lab right now."

"Erik Thorinsson, the Red, whatever."

"You said it yourself," Marks responded after a second, "You're the warrior guy. You know all these people."

"We need to work out how to get of the ghost. Well, he's clearly been denied Valhalla and is pissed off about it."

"I can see that."

"He was an explorer, not a warrior, so maybe that's why."

"If he's a Viking, why's he terrorizing new york?"

"His son - Leif Eriksson - discovered America! So, he's here!"

"I thought it wa-"

"It wasn't Columbus" I yelled, and so did someone else. "Hey, Sif! Good to hear you."

"And you!" Sif bellowed. "We're almost with you. Volstagg wants me to add that you looked specatacular flying through the clouds to the land. We would also like to suggest that maybe if you defeated Erik, giving him a warrior's death, he would be satisified?"

"Great idea. Still doesn't explain why he's in New fucking York!" Marks added, first sarcastically and then angrily.

"Maybe he must battle Leif!" Volstagg burped into the comms - Sif's radio, so it was loud.

"Let's settle with me for now, check if there's another angry Viking ghost hanging around later, guys." I called back as Erik swung for me again, I had been paying less attention that time and only just dodged it, running not flying this time. The people who had dared hanga around -mostly with cameras and cells out - 'ooh'ed. I realized that moving them to safety, as well as keeping Erik to the places he'd already destroyed, was my main priority.

"Marks?"

"Yes, Driop?"

"Can I get an evacuation squad here, stat. Don't know what he's gunna do but apparently he can cause some real damage. I want all civilians out of the area!"

"Roger." and his radio swicthed frequencies.

Then I remembered - Erik had been going to Central Park. Maybe that's where he had to fight someone.

"Marks?"

"Organizing your evac guys, it's Armstrong."

"Nice. Right, Armstrong, need some readings on Central Park, anything at all, anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well, we can-" he paused as he clearly noticed something when he pulled the appropriate window up, or dragged the positioning to Central Park.

"Armstrong?"

"Compromised, this is Agent Kraft reporting for-"

"Okay, Central Park, and save me the spiel, Kraft"

"Yes, Driop. Um, there appears to be little green dots- oh, wait. Hey!"

"Drew here. There electromagnetic traces and what we're tentatively calling supernatural shields - there's also some of the red data from the rainbow bridge shizz no-one hass access to."

"So, Central Park?"

"I'd take him to Central Park. I'm about to head down, leave a shot me, 'kay?"

"Sure. But how you gunna-"

"I got my para license, dumbfuck"

"AGENT DREW!"

"Fury?" I asked

"How about you just come to my funeral instead, hey?"

"Sure thing there, too. Hurry up if you're getting down here, I'm getting dizzy"

There was a pause without comms activity, but no one had gone off.

"Driop, this is Director Fury again, your team will be landing at the intersection of 6th Avenue, NYC, and 52nd Street, NYC. Agent Drew has begun his descent. He has also been reprimanded for referring to a mission leader as 'dumbfuck'. Now hurry up and get that dead Viking ass to Central Park, dumbfuck."

* * *

**Clint's POV**

Myself and Natasha were in her apartment by Central Park, half-sleeping half-molesting each other. Natasha decided we should visit her landlord to tell him she'd be moving out soon. She was barely here as it was, but she'd no longer have rent. With our minimal salaries that'd probably be a good thing. Where had the days when assassins got paid super-high gone? And that was done by deaths, if that was the same at S.H.I.E.L.D. we'd both be super rich.

"There's no one here." she stated when we shut her door. It certainly seemed abandoned. Why? The doors were left open and were nearly bare, there were pieces of clothing and one chair in the hallway. She called out to the family who lived directly across the hall "Lauren, Anton? Lucia, George, Maggie?"

She looked in state of shock, turning to run down the hallway and calling to those she knew. This was why she didn't usually get attached to anything. "Warren, Trish, Jay, Frodo-guy?" she went to the other side and banged on the two doors which were locked, leaning her cheek against them and calling, one then the other, "Mr Pak? Mrs Pak?" and "Max, Cristina?" There was no one around. She ran back to the right and leaned down the stair well, foot holding the door open and hands on the rails supporting her up. "Mr Jumbaliya?" she really shouted.

There was no reply, so after a moment she slowly and measuredly walked to me, expressionless. I hadn't moved from her doorway.

"Clint, when did we enter an post apocalyptic world? It looks like Chernobyl after the nuking. It looks like, like,"

"Stalingrad after the bombing?" I supplied. She nodded feebly and began to cry into her sweater sleeves. I held her.

"All your stuffs at HQ, right?"

"All but a few weapons, a laptop and some clothes."

"Grab it all an let's leave." I instructed. Twenty seconds later she left her apartment. I locked it for her, for some reason, and we just left. It was a floor down when we looked out the window at the same time for the first time that day and we noticed there was no-one in the street. No people, no cars, not even a bloody yellow taxi. There was no activity. We simultaneously realized something was wrong and began to sprint down the stairs, narrowly being missed as something knocked off the top few floors of the building, showering us with rubble. Rodriguez landed between us in the rubble.

"Er, hey, sorry guys, nice to see you. Run." and he jumped over what was left of the exterior wall.

"He has _so_ not got this covered" Nat said, grabbing a gun and following in his stead. We were still on the fifth floor, but she landed on the window ledge of the fourth and repeated for the third and second, then jumped to the street. She turned to face downtown and I followed her line of sight, having joined her on the street through more conventional methods, and noticed, right on the horizon, people heading east on 34th presumably prepared to run a few blocks up to the 495 at Lincoln/FDR and take over the immersed bridge. Or maybe flee to Williamsburg. Whatever the planned on, I noted as my trained mind worked this through, they weren't staying around Midtown, probably the fault of whatever had knocked half of central Manhattan out.

"Seriously," I thought aloud, "New Jersey is right over there, why can't anything ever attack Hoboken or Bayonne somewhere."

"I don't know" Nat growled, heading for the park, "But there's a reason we're in New York - it may be because the bad guys are always here or it be because of that the bad guys are always here. Cruel circle, Clint, now let's help out. It is our job!" she yelled over her schoulder angrily as I hadn't moved at all. "HAWKEYE! Here, NOW!" she screeched as a helicopter whirred above head. I looked up at it, as I began to run uptown, and noticed it was a quinjet. Stark wasn't far behind and once the jet was above Central Park and only 10 or so feet above, the LAW team hopped out with Captain America and a de-hulked-out Banner in his stretch suit, Stark Industries tech of course. We got to them (that last block was hard) just in time to pose, ass-kicking pose. Someone (probably the Captain) thought to bring my bow and I got it from its case then sent the jet back to HQ.

The giant monster warrior turned and began to laugh deeply at, what he then said "feeble assemble".

Rogers grinned from under his spandex and called out, "Avengers, assemble!" to which we all fell behind him, Banner hulked-out, Stark hovered above us, I pulled my bowstring, Thor appeared from Asgard and landed in front of Stark but behind the rest of us, Natasha held he gun up and I raised my bow sideways as Thor lifted his hammer and Captain his shield. The Hulk stood behind everyone and growled at the monster as the final touch. Rodriguez, Driop, whatever, took the hint and without being told, mind you, his Armed Warriors formed their little ass-kicking pose, swords wielded and shining, on the other side of the monster.

"Warrior Driop, how do you suggest we defeat this, er, Warrior?" Captain yelled as the, er, Warrioor, looked between the teams.

"Captain America, I suggest we engage in honorable battle as warriors do, so as he can die an honorable death and be satisfied to Valhalla."

"Who is he?" asked Stark over the comms.

"I believe it be Erik Thorinsson." Thor answered. We all turned to Thor. "The great Norse explorer." he continued, "I met him once." he added in explanation when he got the confused look from the rest of us once more, as if it would explain all.

"THOR!" boomed the Viking.

"Erik the Red. Be it you?" Thor shouted

"'Tis I, but be it you?"

"'Tis I, what brings you here?"

"I have no resting place, great god, and must ask for safe passage to Valhalla!"

"Have you not been accepted?" Thor asked back

"I did not fight, almighty Thor, but was not dishonorable, either. I have come from Iceland to fight to die!"

"You know," Stark had landed and opened his mask to talk to Erik, "most people to aim to die when they fight. But it does make my job easier."

"Thor" Driop asked over the comms, "Any chance you can just, summon him to Valhalla?"

"I can ask my father!" Thor yelled back, not realizing he could use the radio back, or not wanting to bother. Then there was a flash of lightning. "Heimdall must be watching!" Thor shouted, "Heimdall please ask my father to permit Erik the Red to Valhalla. He was a good man! It will protect Midgard!" The lightning cracked when Thor stopped yelling at the sky and suddenly we were blinded by the light, then the Viking had gone.

"That was... odd." Rogers said.

"You're telling me." Stark added.

"It was only a Viking. I've seen Scandinavians in a worse state than that." Natasha deadpanned.

"Yeh, Petrovich, the Red Guardians, ooh, Selvig!" I joked as we all began to leave the park.

"Hey, where were you guys?" Bruce asked as he caught up with us, de-hulked-out again.

"Celebrating." Nat told him simply.

"celebrating what?" he asked as we left to the intact Upper West Side, where my apartment was.

"Our engagement." she replied again, but after a pause enough to have made it half a block. Banner stopped as we continued walking and if his hand hadn't been on my shoulder I don't think I would've noticed. His jaw had dropped, his mouth wide open. I smiled and jogged back to him, and slapped his stretched cheek.

"Hey!"

"Now you're really gobsmacked." I told him, jogging back to join Nat where she'd stopped.

"Ow, not funny, Hawkeye!" he said as he massaged his cheek and caught up with us. "So." he made the silence awkward a block later, "Engaged."

"Yeh, I proposed to her a few months ago." I told him, and though his hand wasn't on my shoulder this time both me and Nat stopped anyway. We turned around, he didn't look too shocked so Nat took the ring from under her shirt, where it hung on a necklace. Bruce's eyes went wide and he held out his palm, silently asking if Nat would let him have a closer look.

"Wow, it's beautiful." he breathed as he bent his head closer and used his other hand to adjust his glasses. Natasha smiled down at it, and then at me.

I smiled back and noticed the glint in her eye that said 'race you back to yours' and set off in the same split second as her, just as Bruce let go of her necklace and was straightening himself up, about to ask another question, mouth making an 'o' and his finger lifted.

We made it back in record time, and just did not much for the rest of the day, watching mindless CBS programs and eating horrible food that we'd be yelled at for, but we didn't care. If this was what life with Natasha would be like, I'd take the sanctions.


End file.
